Math Purgatory
by xToastedZelda
Summary: Dean is a student and /someone/ is his substitute teacher. MADNESS ENSUES. Just some light-hearted regular-type stuff I guess. rated T for some language. [eventual destiel]
1. Chapter 1

HS AU KINd of...

A DESTIEL FANFICTION

WRITTEN BY XTOASTEDZELDA

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH ERIC KRIPKE

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

Dean sauntered into his third period math class thirteen minutes late, expecting the usual scolding from Ms. Stevens for being tardy.

That is not what greeted him today.

A pair of bluey-blue eyes bore into his own greeny-green ones as he hurriedly closed the door behind him out of surprise and fear.

"Name?" The substitute asked in a deep, gravelly voice as a form of salutation.

He studied his shoes nervously before coughing out a quick "Dean" and finding his personalized desk in the back row of the class. Dean's desk had a plethora of obscene doodles across the surface, along with his name carved out with a knife he often brought to school out of habit and just plain ol' juvenile rebellion.

The dark haired sub narrowed his eyes at the teenager and scribbled in the grade book as Dean slid into his seat. He stood from the large oak desk and walked to the dry erase board at the head of the classroom. Dean noted the name behind him, scribbled and almost illegible. 'Mr. Novak,' it read. Below the strange substitutes name was scribbled algebra equations. Mr. Novak picked up a marker and uncapped it, continuing an unfinished one near the bottom.

The room was a delicate mix of dedicated students taking notes, kids who didn't care enough to take notes who were whispering to people near them, and slackers in the back sleeping. Dean was happily dreaming about driving his beloved Impala on a two-lane highway in a flat, rural area somewhere in Texas.

This went on for a few weeks. Mr. Novak was taking the place of Ms. Stevens indefinitely on account of her having a death in the family and travelling to some foreign country to be with them.

Dean continued to sleep in this class. He was dropping out in a few months anyways so what was the point?

A hand nudged Dean's arm and he slowly jarred himself awake. He looked up to see those distractingly blue eyes.

"What?" he growled.

Mr. Novak cleared his throat pointedly before handing Dean a sheet of paper. He quickly realized it was a test that was taken some time last week with a red 'F' written at the top. Dean grabbed in nonchalantly and tucked it in the nest of his arms and plopped his head back on top.

"Dean, do you need help in math?" the persistent math substitute asked him in a hushed tone as to not attract attention.

"No," Dean grumbled into his sleeve.

"But you're failing, Dean."

"Bite me."

Mr. Novak straightened at that and went back to his desk.

The next day, Dean walked into the classroom, again late, to find all the desks pushed together in groups of four.

Yikes.

Group work sucks and everyone knows it.

Dean mentally flipped off the permanent substitute as he slunk to his desk, positioned into a group in the back corner of the room. The other three kids in his group nodded at his arrival and continued to either work on their own or not at all. Dean slid down in his seat and rested his head on the back rest, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes.

His relaxation was short lived, though, as Mr. Novak loudly cleared his throat to get his attention. Dean opened one eye and glared at the blue-eyed man.

"You will not sleep in this class anymore, Dean." He slid a referral slip onto Dean's desk, notifying him of his detention after school today.

"Aces," Dean grimaced as he lazily grabbed the slip and crumpled it before tossing it in the bin a few feet away.

Mr. Novak frowned and Dean did not acknowledge it as he closed his eyes again.

"Dean, do you want to fail?" he scolded.

He smirked as he replied, "Sure, Daddy. I'm dropping out soon so it's whatever." Hold up, did Dean just say 'Daddy' to a teacher? What the fuck, Dean, get your shit together. Maybe no one noticed.

The entire class was silent and was turned to face the scene that involved the almost high school dropout and attractive sub.

Then burst out laughing.

Dean sunk lower into the seat as Mr. Novak's face reddened and he walked back to his desk, hiding his face in some book. Dean laughed internally at the teacher's reaction.

After the final bell rang that day, Dean contemplated leaving immediately but decided against it as he texted his brother, Sam, to find another ride home.

He pocketed his phone and entered the fateful classroom. It was completely void of anyone and he again thought of leaving but was brought out of his decision as a presence was felt behind him. He turned around to see Mr. Novak with a very pink face.

Son of a bitch.

Mr. Novak pushed past him and sat at the desk. Dean turned with a raised eyebrow and slid into the closest desk, figuring there's no point in sitting in the back of the room if there's no one else in the room to hide behind.

The two of them sat in silence for a long few moments before the teacher broke the silence with a cough. Dean looked up from the desk to see two determined blue eyes directed at him.

"Why do you want to drop out?" he asked suddenly, tilting his head.

Dean shrugged half-heartedly. "I've got better things to do than sit around and get told what to do."

"Like what?" He wasn't dropping this, was he?

The green-eyed teenager sighed. "You really don't want to hear about this, trust me."

Mr. Novak smiled lightly. "No, I do, Dean." He leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands. "Tell me why you're dropping out."

Dean sighed again and rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't believe me."

"I'm sure I would," the teacher pushed through clenched teeth. "Talk, kid."

"My family and I," he started, leaning forward pretentiously, "hunt monsters, dude. And my dad tells me I'm one of the best hunters out there. So why should I stay in school if I can be out doing something I love and that I'm good at?" He said this in like one big breath.

Mr. Novak blinked in surprise. "What?"

Dean continued, "No, really. Why do I even need to be here?"

"Dean, I'm talking about the hunting monsters thing." Mr. Novak stood from his desk and approached the student. He kind of looked down with his eyes and said to quietly to himself, "How did I not know about that?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Novak, what the fuck are you talking about?"

He didn't respond and went back to his desk. He leaned over it and opened the top left drawer. The dark haired teacher turned back to Dean and was holding a chrome, cylindrical and pointed object.

"My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."

* * *

**A/N:** THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONESHOT BUT I WAS LIKE "IF THIS WERE A LIFETIME MOMENT OF TRUTH MOVIE THIS WOULD BE MY ACT BREAK" AND IT WAS.

sorry.

(ps flying glass of milk is a thing and you should look it up)

(like on imdb)

.

And also, I was just writing this to pass the time on a computer that had no access to the Internet but somehow **this** happened. (may become more than just 2 chapters *shrugs indefinitely*)


	2. Chapter 2: Electric Boogaloo

**a/n:** no really this was supposed to be an au one-shot up until I made Dean a hunter

* * *

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

Dean stood awkwardly and stumbled back as he pulled the demon knife from his inside jacket pocket. "Angels don't exist," he stated.

Castiel shook his head. "You do not know how wrong you are, Dean." He took a hesitant step forward while Dean took another back.

Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh yeah, well if you're some 'Angel' where are your wings?"

"Your human eyes cannot perceive them."

Dean squinted pointedly. "Ok then do something to prove you're an angel."

Castiel rested the metallic object he was holding on his desk. He raised his hand with the index finger extended. Dean's eyebrows lifted in obvious confusion. "Pull my finger," the 'Angel' commanded.

Dean shortened the distance between them with a few steps and reached slowly and grabbed the teacher's finger. He tugged lightly and suddenly the room was filled with the crashing sounds of light bulbs bursting. The two were standing in a now darkened room with Dean still holding Castiel's finger.

"What the hell?" he breathed and pocketed his knife.

Castiel laughed quietly. Dean let go of his finger and took a big, determined step back.

"Okay, so you're an angel," he tested the fact on his tongue. Bleh. "Why are you a substitute teacher? Shouldn't you be out doing God's work or whatever?"

"I am doing God's work." At Dean's confusion, he continued. "By being your substitute teacher, I was able to become an authoritative figure in your life and therefore I can look after you properly. I was commanded to protect Dean Winchester."

The young hunter knitted his eyebrows together. Shit, he meant to make a scarf. "So you're like my…_guardian angel_?" he guessed.

"I wouldn't use that exact terminology, but yes, I suppose so."

Dean nodded in understanding. "So what's that thing?" He pointed to the chrome thing on the desk.

"It's my angel blade," the angel said as he picked it back up. "It is the only thing that can kill an angel. It can also kill demons." Castiel held the blade to Dean, hilt first. Dean grabbed it cautiously and felt the weight of it in his hand.

"Huh, it's got a nice heft to it," he said as he bounced it lightly. Dean then turned away from Castiel and held it up in an attack pose. He followed through with the shiny blade and pretended to kill. "Would be nice on the field," he commented as he handed it back to the slightly attractive angel.

Castiel nodded and returned the blade to his desk. "So now I understand the reason why you must drop out. I was not informed of you being a hunter."

"Geez, who's the messenger up there? The tumblr messaging system?" Dean guffawed. Castiel's head tilted.

Dean's body stiffened. "What?" he asked accusatorily.

"What are you trying to insinuate, Dean? The messenger is Gabriel. Who is tumblr?"

He sighed in response. "Nevermind." Dean casually pushed past the angel and was at the door before he turned around. "If you're my 'guardian angel'," he began, putting air quotes where needed, "does this mean you're going to follow me around now? It might seem kinda odd to see a high school kid and the teacher he called 'Daddy' in class just walking around together."

"I'm an angel, Dean. I possess the ability to become invisible when necessary." At that, Castiel disappeared into thin air. Dean slowly turned away and walked out the door.

* * *

Dean quickly located his precious car in the parking lot and all but ran to it. He always missed seeing his Baby during the day and greeted her warmly after school, despite Sam making fun of him the whole time.

"Shut up, Sammy," he'd say. "I don't pick on your love for your computer."

"Actually, you do," Sam would reply hastily.

Dean would scoff. "Whatever."

He slid into the front seat and lovingly caressed the steering wheel before gliding the key into the ignition. The Impala started with a low growl that turned into a gentle purr that too often put Dean in a good mood. So good, in fact, he forgot there was an angel on his ass.

"Dean," a voice came from the passenger side. The Impala jerked to the right and barely missed a mailbox.

"Damn it, Cas!" Dean exclaimed as he centered the car back on the road, relieved to have not hit anything and damage his beautiful car. "What the hell, man?" He asked once the car was once again righted.

"I am not a man, I am an Angel," he flatly corrected.

Dean angrily sighed. "It's a figure of speech, Cas. What do you want?"

Castiel was silent for a moment. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

"What, _Cas_?" he asked, putting the correct amount of emphasis on 'Cas.' The angel nodded and Dean answered, "It's just easier than 'Castiel.'"

The angel stared at him blankly from the passenger seat. "Isn't it true that humans give others these 'nicknames' as a form of friendly affection?"

Dean turned his head and shot Castiel a look that read dude-what-the-fuck. "Don't read into it. It's just a shortened version of your name for convenience." He turned his face back to the road ahead of him and rolled his eyes inwardly. This was going to be a long drive.

They finally arrived at the Winchester residence. It was a modest home with light colored siding and dark shutters. Just kidding, it was a garbage heap. But not to Dean. For Dean, most of the time it was a nearly safe haven in which he and his brother could be protected from the elements of the cold in the winter. But other times it was a training ground where his dad was the drill sergeant and he and Sam were the maggots.

That was when he was home, though.

Currently, John Winchester was out hunting a vamp nest a few towns over. He said he'd be back in a few weeks.

It's been two months.

Dean used the small amount of money their father left them to take care of Sammy. Some nights he would split a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli with his brother, other nights he would go to bed with only a bottle of beer in his stomach.

John usually only let Dean drink when he was there but his son had inadvertently found a way to obtain beer without his father's intervention.

He stole from the neighbors.

Tonight seemed to be one of the better nights. Sam explained to Dean that the friend who drove him home stopped by Burger King on their way home and bought him a few burgers. Dean scolded Sam for taking their charity but was grateful when he realized his brother saved him one. He ruffled Sam's hair on his way into the living room and the younger Winchester immediately scowled and fixed the stray hairs.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam turned quickly on the couch to face the direction in which the deep, foreign voice came from. "Dean, who in the—"

"Oh yeah," Dean said as he swallowed a bite of his burger. "This is Castiel; he's apparently my guardian angel or whatever. Don't call him 'Cas' though, it confuses him," he said the last bit pointedly with a smirk.

Sam's eyes never left the dark haired man in the entrance to the living room. His head tilted at Dean's 'Cas' comment, but said nothing as he continued to study the angel.

"Um…okay," the younger hunter finally said after a long awkward silence. "Nice to meet you, Cas…tiel." He heard Dean snicker at his long pronunciation of the angel's name.


	3. Chapter 3: The Third One

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

Dean, Sam, and the newly acquired angel sat in the dusty living room in uncomfortable silence for a while before Sam excused himself to do homework in his room.

Of course _Sam_ would be the Smartest Kid In Class. He did his homework no matter what monster was wreaking havoc on a town. If he were a detective, he'd be the one to read all 200 pages of a forensics report. He once did algebra in the backseat of the Impala on the way home from a Wendigo hunt with gashes down his chest, only covered by a fistful of his ruined t shirt pressed against them.

"It's due tomorrow," he whined.

"Nerd," Dean teased with a smile as he held the fabric to his baby brother's chest.

Dean smiled fondly at the memory. He didn't notice when Castiel moved from his spot on the couch to the armrest of the La-z-boy Dean was currently residing in.

"What are you smiling at?" the dark haired angel asked curiously.

Dean flinched at the presence. "JESUS!" He scooted away from Castiel but was too tired from being awake all day to care enough to get up. "What?"

Castiel leaned closer to the hunter. "What were you smiling about earlier?"

Dean waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing, just this thing that happened," he answered.

"What was it?"

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Do you ever stop asking questions?" he growled.

"Sometimes," the angel answered innocently.

The green eyes teenager ran a hand down his face in frustration. "It was just this thing that happened with Sammy a while back."

Castiel absorbed the information before asking, "Why do you call him 'Sammy' when his name is clearly 'Sam'?"

Dean stood from the chair and walked to the kitchen. He was so done with this freaking angel. Like ten million percent done.

"You didn't answer my question, Dean," Castiel yelled from his spot on the chair.

He groaned as he opened the fridge and retrieved a beer from the bottom shelf. "Blow me, Cas."

There was a rush of wind and suddenly the annoying angel was behind Dean. He stepped closer to the hunter and angrily blew on the back of his head.

Dean turned quickly and caught sight of the awkward angel before falling to the floor in a fit of stifled laughter. "Cas!...Cas, you don't…" he said between howls of laughter. He tried to steady himself as he stood up, the laughing dying slowly away. "Dude, when I said blow me—"

Cas interrupted, "Oh, so you meant that you wanted me to perform fellatio on you."

Dean's eyes widened and he stepped away. "No, Cas!" He wiped his hand down his face in frustration. "I was being sarcastic," he sighed. "It's like saying 'Bite me' or something like that."

Castiel's eyebrows went together and he tilted his head. "So the other day when you said 'Bite me' you didn't actually want me to bite you?" Dean nodded hesitantly. "Oh, I see. At that time I did not do it because I figured it would have been quite the awkward scene."

Dean's eyebrow raised and he turned out of the kitchen to the stairs and up to his room. Castiel followed closely behind. When Dean tried to close his bedroom door behind him, he heard a quiet whimper. He turned around and saw that Castiel had gotten hit by the door.

"Damn it, Cas," he mumbled. "Don't you have anything better to do than follow me around all day?"

"No," he answered simply.

Dean groaned in annoyance. "Fine, whatever. Just don't bother me." He drank half the beer in his hand before placing it on the nightstand and flopped down on his bed.

Castiel stood motionless in the corner and took in the posters that littered the walls of the teenaged hunter's room. "Dean," he started.

"I said don't bother me," he replied from the bed, one arm over his eyes.

"Dean, what is AC/DC?"

The green-eyed kid lifted his head and glared angrily at the angel. "What?"

"What is—"

"I heard you, don't say it again." Dean stared dumbfounded at Castiel. "You really don't know who AC/DC is?" The stupid fucking angel shook his head. He swung his legs off the bed, stood up, and walked to the boom box at the other end of the room. Dean shuffled through the stack of cassettes on the table until he found the one labeled "AC/DC" in permanent marker. He fed the tape into the cassette deck and pressed play. The audio of Thunderstruck filled the room.

A slight smile crawled its way across the angel's face. "Yes, this is quite enjoyable." Dean turned to Cas and grinned widely.

"See what you've been missing out on?" Dean gave Castiel a friendly punch on the arm and went back to his bed. Castiel watched as he air-drummed along to the music.

* * *

"Dude, you can't sleep in here. Go sleep on the couch or something." Dean tossed an extra pillow at the trenchcoat-wearing angel.

"I don't sleep," he replied and let the pillow fall by his feet.

"Well, I need my four hours, so—"

"I'll watch over you," the angel interrupted.

Dean stared at him for a moment. "That's not going to happen."

Castiel shook his head slightly. "Dean, I will watch over you as you sleep."

"Cas, that makes me uncomfortable." Dean sat on his bed and pulled back the already messed up blankets. "Do you really have to watch me sleep?"

"Yes." The angel picked the pillow up from the floor and carried it back to Dean.

The hunter contemplated it for a moment. "Alright, fine," he finally said and took the pillow back from his angel. "Just…be quiet so I can sleep." He slid further into the bed and covered himself with the dark red flannel sheets.

Castiel stood a few feet away from the end of the bed. He listened as Dean's breathing slowed and became even as he succumbed to sleep. The angel wondered what it was like to have to sleep to survive. He'd slept before but only briefly and, because he is an angel, it was unnecessary for his survival. He'd noted Dean's sleep schedule of 'four hours' and wondered how he managed both hunting and school but then remembered the student's constant sleeping in the class he had masqueraded as a substitute teacher in.

Humans really should sleep for eight hours a night.

* * *

The next morning, Dean had confronted Castiel about how life would continue with Cas as a teacher and Dean as his student.

"I will continue to act as I was before you knew my true identity." Castiel's head tilted. "What would be the problem?"

Dean huffed, "How are you going to get to school without people seeing you with me?"

Before Dean could finish his question, the angel was gone with the sound of fluttering wings.

"I guess that settles that," he mumbled aloud to himself.

Dean drove with Sam in silence to school that day. He, for some reason, didn't feel right listening to his favorite music without his…favorite…angel. What?

What the heck?

He physically shook the thought out of his head and reached down to the radio. He clicked the preset for his favorite rock-n-roll station and sat back, soaking in the music.

* * *

**a/n: **I already have chapter 4 written and 5 is just starting. ps thank you for reviewing c:


	4. Chapter 4: Dean's Big Gay Crisis Begins

**a/n: **rome wasn't built in a day but this chapter was written in a day. (AND I'M REALLY SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE JUST A FUNNY FIC THAT I JUST WROTE WITHOUT THINKING BUT IT'S BECOMING A REAL STORY AND IT'S GETTING ALL ANGSTY)

* * *

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

Dean didn't think about that thing that he wasn't supposed to think about all morning. He actually stayed awake for most of first period where he was passing flirtatious notes to the cute red-head who sat in front of him. Second period was a blur of scientific blahbitty-blah.

But third period…

He managed to actually forget about that thing that he wasn't supposed to think about up until the bell rang signaling the end of second period. Dean slowly made his way around the school to third period, not even wasting time at his locker. He was in such a daze he didn't realize, instead of avoiding the class entirely, he walked straight there and was one of the first people in the class.

Dean walked into the classroom and, just as the first day, was greeted with the bluey-ist blue eyes he'd ever seen.

Shit.

He averted eye-contact with the 'substitute teacher' and zipped to the back of class into his familiar desk.

"Dean," the angel called.

Shitshitshit.

"What?" Dean groaned.

"Are you going to sleep today?" he asked with a sly grin.

Dean realized for the first time today that he was actually not that tired. Last night's sleep was the best he's had in longer than he can remember.

He shook his head. "Actually, no, Mr. Novak." Castiel smiled and—holy crap, was that a wink? No, Dean would not read into that. Yes, he winked but that could mean anything. Cas was probably just subliminally saying that he watched him sleep last night and…

Oh.

That must be why he slept so well.

Damn it.

Well, whatever, he wouldn't let it get to him.

Throughout class, Dean actually kept his head up and paid attention to what his teacher was saying in that deep, gravelly voice of his.

NO.

QUIT THAT.

He was just listening to how the problems were worked so he could not fail the next test like Mr. Novak wanted him to.

Like Cas wanted him to.

Dean had to shake his head hard for the thoughts he wouldn't let form to finally knock out of his head.

The rest of third period was absolutely brutal as he tried not to think of his angel in that way. Because, not only was he a man, but he was also an angel of the lord and was probably thousands of years old. That's hella creepy. Humans and angels shouldn't be together. Except the more he thought about how much he shouldn't be with Cas, the more he thought about his exceptionally chiseled features and stubbly jaw.

Dean had to do something about this.

He excused himself to the restroom and ignored the tingly feeling when Castiel handed him the hall pass and their fingers brushed. Dean stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for a long while as he talked himself down from ever wanting to pursue anything with the man who had just admitted to being an angel. He smacked himself in the face a few times for good measure. Then he eventually splashed water on his face and dried it before heading back to class.

Dean got to the classroom just as the bell rang. Students rushed past him as he tried to reenter the room that he knew was occupied with a totally not attractive angel.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Castiel asked in a very teacher-y way.

Dean shook his head slightly and said, "Nah, I'm fine, Ca—" he stopped himself from saying the ending consonant when he spotted the other kids still in the room. He turned around swiftly and maneuvered to the back where his stuff was and scooped it into his arms before heading to his next class, nodding absently at Cas before leaving.

* * *

The day was finally over and Dean could relax in his beautiful car. He leaned against the driver side door and waited for Sam to find him.

"Hello, Dean," a gruff voice said out of nowhere.

Dean shut his eyes hard and tried not to look at the angel he knew was standing right in front of him.

"Hey, Cas."

Dean could practically feel the blue eyes staring at him but did not want to confirm it so he just kept his eyes closed.

"What are you doing?"

The young hunter felt the presence closer to him now. He tried not to think of the dark-haired pseudo substitute teacher standing in his immediate proximity. Dean could practically feel the angelic breath hitting his face. He hesitantly opened one eye and confirmed his suspicions. Castiel had been standing less than five inches away from him.

"Cas, personal space," he breathed.

"What?" the angel asked innocently.

Dean sighed heavily. "Cas, I don't know how things are in heaven or whatever, but here on Earth, we humans like to have our own little bubble." He held a hand to Castiel's chest and gently pushed him away. "We call it 'personal space.'"

"Oh." Cas's cheeks reddened and he looked at the ground. "My apologies, Dean." He took an extra step back, ensuring to respect Dean's 'bubble.'

Finally, Sam had appeared in front of the car. Dean nodded for Cas to disappear or whatever he does and got into the car. Sam slid in next to him and they pulled out of the student parking lot.

"Wasn't that Castiel?" Sam asked when they were finally out of the vicinity of adolescent drivers.

"Yeah. He's the substitute teacher for my math class so it would be pretty awkward for people to see him in my car, especially after…" his voice drifted off. He knew Sam would be curious about it so he wasn't surprised when he asked:

"After what?"

Dean sighed and he could feel the heat grow on his face. "I, uh, accidentally called him 'Daddy' in the middle of class." He slid slightly down in his seat and stared persistently at the road in front of him, avoiding Sam's gaze.

After a tense moment of silence, the younger hunter stifled his laughter with his sleeve.

"It's not funny!" Dean insisted.

Sam laughed harder. "Dean, how in the world did you call him 'Daddy'? I mean, I understand accidentally calling a teacher 'mom' or something, but…_Daddy?! _You never even called Dad that!"

Dean felt the blush on his cheeks reach unprecedented levels of redness. "Shut up, bitch. I was being nonchalant and it slipped out."

"From where? You're deep-seated Daddy Issues?" Sam's voice cracked with a laugh as he said _the D word_ again.

Dean punched his brother hard on the arm, eliciting a boyish yelp to fall from his mouth as he rubbed the spot with his free hand.

The rest of the ride home was basically silent aside from Sam's occasional snicker at his brother.

When Dean sped the Impala around the corner onto their street, he could hardly believe what he saw in their driveway.


	5. Chapter 5: Ouch

**a/n:** okay im really sorry this was supposed to be a funny fic but it just got away from me (this is where it get's kinda angsty)

* * *

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

Dean slowed the Impala as it neared their house. He and Sam glued their eyes on the stunningly familiar black truck parked where it hadn't been in nearly two months.

Sam hesitantly undid his seatbelt and opened the door. Dean waited in the car for his nerves to die down.

With their dad being gone for so long, he'd been expecting the inevitable. Dean thought they'd never see their dad again, whether it was because he decided he didn't need to care for two teenaged brats or because…

Dean didn't want his mind to wander in that direction but let it anyway.

He thought John Winchester was dead.

He figured he'd get in contact with Ellen or Bobby at some point and they'd tell him that something went wrong on the hunt.

Dean heard the woosh of a familiar angel's wings beside him and suddenly he wasn't alone anymore. He turned to Castiel, trying to speak but nothing came out. The angel looked into Dean's eyes and gave a nod, silently reminding Dean of his holy duties to protect the scared teenager. After a long moment of intense eye-contact that Dean would have normally avoided, he opened the door with an aged squeak of hinges.

Before he knew it, his feet carried him to the house and into the living room. He watched silently as Sam caught his father up on what was going on in his classes. He heard the muffled sound of his dad encouraging Sam on his achievements. Muffled, because Dean was beside himself. His dad was practically back from the dead.

Dean tried to move but found he was still glued to the same spot. He tried speaking instead, perhaps getting the man's attention and have him come over instead.

"H-hey Dad," he croaked.

John turned around and faced his oldest son. A stern look washed over him. "Dean," he said before standing. "Have you been taking care of Sam?"

Dean nodded mechanically. "Yes, sir," he answered flatly.

"You've been watching the house at night?"

"Yes, sir."

"You got a job?"

Dean hesitated. Yes, there was a monetary income. No, it wasn't considered a 'job.'

"I've been hustling pool."

John took a step towards Dean. His hard expression held for a moment before falling into something more neutral. "I guess that's good enough."

A long pause before, "Dad, there's something else."

"What?" the Winchester patriarch quipped.

Before Dean could call his name, Castiel was standing next to him.

"How the hell is he in here? The house is warded!" John reached for the flask of holy water in his pocket before Dean stopped him.

"He's not a demon," he said with his arms out to stop his father. "Dad, he's an angel sent from heaven to protect me…and inadvertently our whole family."

John took a step closer and narrowed his eyes at the blue-eyed angel. "Where was he all those years ago when Mary died?" he growled.

"There was nothing I could do," Castiel started plainly. "I could not break the deal she made. Even if I could, it would mean you would be dead."

John sneered. "Whatever." He turned to the wide arch to the left and exited through it and through the extra room, to his bedroom.

Dean turned to Castiel. "Sorry, he's just like that." Cas nodded and headed upstairs to Dean's room. Dean watched the angel leave then turned to look at Sam. "He'll probably be gone soon, anyway," he told his brother.

Sam nodded sadly and followed the angel up the stairs to his own room. Dean sighed and went upstairs as well.

He opened his door and was met with the image of an angel sitting on the edge of his bed and shuffling through the shoebox he kept underneath.

"Cas! What are you doing?" Dean quickly shut the door behind him and lunged for the box in Castiel's hands. Castiel looked at him with a surprised expression and held the box out of Dean's reach.

"Why do you keep these things hidden away?" he asked innocently.

Dean continued to try to take the box away from Cas and was now lying across the angel's lap. "None of your business!" he grunted in his movements.

Castiel popped away with the sound of sheets in the wind and Dean suddenly found himself flat on the ground.

"Jesus, Cas, warn a guy," Dean huffed and he wiped imaginary dirt of his chest as he rolled over. He looked up and saw Cas standing in front of his bedroom door still holding the box.

"Dean, what's 'Busty Asian Beauties'?" he asked innocently.

Dean glared from his spot on the floor. "It's nothing of import, Cas," he said mockingly.

The angel narrowed his exquisitely blue eyes. "What about 'Just Us Boys'?"

The young hunter gulped in what would have been a comical way if this were a different scenario. He watched in horror as an Angel of the Lord flipped open a magazine filled with homoerotic pornographic images of men. Dean's face became extremely hot as the blush attacked it.

"U-uh…" He tried desperately to speak and make up some excuse for why he owned something like that.

The truth is, when he entered his algebra class all those weeks ago and he saw those blue eyes, he felt so wrong for it, but he enjoyed looking at the dark-haired substitute teacher. He bought the Busty Asian Beauties magazine to try to push down the feelings he had about the man. When nothing was stopping him from having erotic dreams about Mr. Novak, he ordered the Just Us Boys magazine online under an assumed name. Dean wanted to see if he felt the same way about the men in this magazine as he did about his teacher.

It turned out he liked the thought of being with a man instead of a girl. And that scared the crap out of him. He tried, actually tried, to _pray the gay away, _which now that he thought about it seemed really ironic. He hid the magazines under his bed and kept his mind away from either sexes for as long as he could.

But here they were, being held by the one and only reason he owned them.

Dean stood up and carefully approached the angel. He hesitantly handed Dean the box which the hunter held to his chest. Dean flinched when Castiel's hand went to his face and wiped away a tear he didn't realize he shed.

"Dean, do you realize when you pray, your prayers come right to me?" the angel whispered and his lips twitched into a smile, his hand still on the teenager's face.

Dean shook his head and stepped backward out of Cas's reach. "Get out," he growled quietly.

* * *

**bonus a/n(wow): **this was hard as heckie to write so please review


	6. Chapter 6: ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

Castiel stared confused at Dean for a long, tense moment before poofing away. Dean looked down at the box in his hands then threw it hard against the door, sending the contents flying out around him. He dropped to his knees and held his wet face in his hands.

At that moment, he didn't care if he ever saw that damn angel ever again.

* * *

Castiel straightened the papers on his desk for the thousandth time that morning. He was still worrying about the confrontation he had with Dean the previous night. Hopefully, he could take him in the hall during class and talk to him about it.

But he would later find out that Dean would not be in his class that day.

"He was here this morning," one student announced when the green-eyed hunter's name had been called for attendance. "I saw him with his brother."

Castiel knew that no matter what Dean was avoiding, he would always make sure Sam was okay. And by that, it means he would definitely make sure Sam was getting his education and possibly just away from whatever kind of self mutilation he was doing, whether it was just heavily drinking or…something worse.

He hastily excused himself from the room and tracked down Sam. The younger Winchester was in the Advanced Placement English class down the hall.

"Can I borrow Sam Winchester for a moment?" the angel politely asked the teacher who then nodded. Sam made eye-contact with Castiel before walking into the hall with him.

"Where's Dean?" the blue-eyed pseudo substitute asked when the door was closed.

Sam shrugged. "He dropped me off this morning and said he wouldn't be here but he seemed really…distant," he recalled. "I think he's avoiding something."

Castiel nodded. "Yes, it is something like that."

Sam tilted his head in confusion. "What is it?"

The angel shook his head and stared vacantly into the distance. "It is not of import, Sam. I assure you." Castiel looked back to Sam and sighed. "Go back to class," he said quietly then turned back in the direction of his classroom.

The following day went exactly the same. Dean wasn't in his class, he went to check with Sam, he said something cryptic about not being there, then he trudged back to his class and taught a bunch of kids he didn't need to protect how to do formulas that they would never use again in their lives. Awesome.

Castiel had hopes the day after that maybe Dean only needed two days to get over what had happened that night. He was wrong.

Dean didn't come back to school for the majority of a month. Castiel really worried for the kid but according to Sam, he was still…well, he hadn't spiraled so far down that he thought the only way out was the end of a rope. Dean still dropped Sam off at school and picked him up in the afternoons, he just didn't come in. Sam said he'd see him every few hours at home when Dean was getting food or going to the bathroom but he didn't speak or make any attempt to socialize. And he looked like hell every time.

But on the plus side, it seemed John was staying home for a while, said something about the last hunt taking a lot out of him and Bobby had other hunters so why not take a break.

But Cas still hadn't seen Dean with his own eyes so he had to come up with some plan to be able to help him.

He knew Dean wasn't coming to school if he knew Castiel would be there so he decided to get Sam to tell him that Ms. Stevens, his regular teacher, had come back.

"So Cas isn't going to be there?" Dean asked after Sam delivered the fake news. Dean and Sam sat at the kitchen table eating whatever small amount of food was left in the pantry.

Sam nodded. "He said that since he isn't needed by you or the school anymore he was going back to Heaven for a while."

Dean looked at his hands clasped in his lap. "So I guess I'll go back to school then," he mumbled in what could only be described as 'sadly.' Or like 'gloomily' or something. Just unhappy.

Sam ignored his brother's expression and smirked knowing all this was going to be over as soon as Dean entered that classroom.

The next day, Dean finally parked his prized Impala in the student parking lot again and walked into the school behind Sam. He figured with nothing really to do at home, he'd come back to school to entertain himself. Especially because he didn't have to worry about seeing Cas anymore. Castiel. He didn't have to worry about seeing Castiel anymore. Full name. No form of affection in any way.

Anyways, he was bored of flipping through the static-y home shopping network channels and day-time television so now he's occupying his time with unnecessary public education.

Most of the morning was pretty normal. All the 'Where have you been?'s and 'You missed like a shit-load of assignments, have fun making them up's were heaved upon him in both first and second period. He waved them off and continued focusing on anything normal he could think of. Like that girl he flirted with two chapters ago. Or the fact that his regular teacher would be back next period.

And he'd have to do math.

Yippy.

Well, whatever, the bell rang at the end of second period and he very slowly stood up and gathered his things, taking as long as possible because regardless of the teacher, algebra sucked.

Dean got to the classroom a good ten minutes late and was even kind of excited to have the 'How many times have I told you' scolding. He opened the door and looked around the room. There wasn't any teacher in here. Dean stood dumbfounded by the door. Ms. Stevens was never late.

"My apologies, class, I had to get something from my car," a familiar voice called from behind the terrified teenager.

Oh, come on.

Dean turned slowly, not ready to see that face he tried so hard to forget, and sneered at the angel.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel was standing in the doorway holding a box with 'math stuffs' scribbled on the side. That's not suspicious. "Take your seat."

Dean narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired man before storming past him and out into the hallway. He let his legs carry him out to the parking lot. There was no way he was letting this angel purposefully make him talk about stuff that didn't matter.

Dean was straight. There was no denying that. And this freaking angel was gonna make him lie to himself and say he likes dudes when he very obviously likes girls. That girl from first period who he knew liked him, he's gonna ask her out and have all kinds of heterosexual intercourse in the back of his perfectly awesome car.

Speaking of which, he could see the back bumper of it as he made a bee-line to the back of the parking lot.

But suddenly, a hand was on him and everything went dark.

* * *

"Dean, you cannot ignore this," Castiel calmly informed.

"I can and I will," Dean nonchalantly spoke with a glass in his hand half-full of whiskey.

The angel pressed his lips together and glared at the boy. "There is nothing wrong with being gay, Dean." The hunter shook his head and took a sip from the glass.

"I don't care, my dad's gonna kill me."

"No, he won't."

"You don't know that," Dean pointed angrily with the hand that held his alcohol. He looked around the room and found that he was in the living room of Bobby's house. Wait, they only came here when there was a really big hunt. Why was he here? He took another sip of the brown liquid and it occurred to him.

This was a dream he often had.

Every so often, when the family was at Bobby's, the old hunter would let him drink whiskey when his father was out. It was probably the coolest thing about his childhood so sometimes when he was stressed out he would dream about it when he slept. It was the only time he felt anywhere close to happy.

But why the heck was he asleep? Was Cas forcing him to talk this way? Did Cas do that sleeping thing he can do with his mojo?

"Yes," the angel spoke again.

Dean stared at him with an eyebrow raised.

"We're in your head, Dean, I can read your thoughts."

He smirked. "Oh yeah, what am I thinking right now?"

"Pie," Castiel answered quickly.

Damn, he's good.

"Alright," he forfeited. "Whatever, but my Dad will definitely kill me."

Castiel shook his stupid head. "He will not, Dean. I was sent to Earth to protect you, so that is what I will do." The angel stepped toward Dean and pressed two fingers on his forehead and the next thing the human knew, he was laying in his bed.

Dean opened his eyes to see a slightly smiling angel standing by his bed. He smiled back and sat up. "Thanks, Cas." The blue-eyed angel hesitantly held his arms out in the most pathetic yet adorable attempt at a hug he'd ever seen. So he just happily wrapped his arms around Castiel's surprisingly warm body. He felt Cas's arms wrap around him and he immediately felt safe.

They stayed embraced in each other for a comfortably long moment before Dean leaned back slightly and gazed into some bluey-blue eyes.

And then he straight-up kissed that fucker.

He thought maybe his first kiss with a guy would be awkward but for the most part it wasn't. It was a soft peck that turned into a slow confession of emotion. And it felt awesome. Dean wondered why he didn't just kiss him the first time he saw the nerdy angel and why they hadn't been doing it the whole time.

They continued having their fierce face battle as Dean pulled Castiel down onto the bed by his lapels. The two lay next to each other lazily kissing for a while and didn't hear the door open.

* * *

**a/n:** im not changing the summary btw


	7. Chapter 7: Cat's Out of the Bag

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

_They continued having their fierce face battle as Dean pulled Castiel down onto the bed by his lapels. The two lay next to each other lazily kissing for a while and didn't hear the door open._

"Uh…Dean?" Sam's voice wavered.

Dean's eyes shot open and he quickly sat up on the bed. "H-hey Sammy," he stammered. He could feel the blood rushing to his face. The initial shock of finding his brother and an angel in a male vessel making out was radiating from Sam's face.

The younger Winchester brother swallowed hard and awkwardly cleared his throat. "There's, uh… pie downstairs."

Dean nodded. "Thanks, Sam." He watched as his brother gawkily shuffled backwards out the door and closed it behind him. Castiel sat up next to Dean and Dean let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The angel put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Dean." He pressed a light kiss on the human's cheek.

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head a little. "I guess," he breathed. Dean turned his head to face Castiel. "If I don't go down and get pie, Dad will get suspicious." He reluctantly swung his legs off the side of the bed and padded down the stairs.

* * *

"He said he was going to bed early," Sam almost inaudibly told his father as he took a bite of the pie, the fork shaking with his hand.

Sam was sitting across from John at the table and between them sat seven eighths of a raspberry pie, a plate, and a fork. John had his laptop on the table for research and Sam had taken the missing eighth of the pie and was pushing the pie bits around the plate with his fork as he and his dad spoke.

John's eyebrows raised but before he could respond, Dean was in the doorway of the kitchen. He had an obviously fake smug grin plastered on his face.

"I would never miss out on pie, Sam." He ruffled his little brother's hair as he passed. Dean cut out a piece and plopped it on the plate that was next to the pan. He took a bite and let it sit on his tongue for a bit before he swallowed and spoke, "Where did you get this? The pies from the gas station usually aren't that good."

John chuckled from the other side of the table. "Dad made it," Sam piped up. Dean eyed the eldest Winchester.

"You…made this?" he asked hesitantly. Dean looked back at the pie suspiciously. Since when did Dad bake?

John nodded. "That's right. I picked up a few tips from Ellen while on the hunt." Dean nodded and the boys continued eating in uncomfortable silence; Sam eyeing Dean carefully, still trying to figure out the whole 'Dean and Castiel' thing. Dean looked over and caught his nosey brother staring at him.

He had a bite of pie on his fork and was bringing it to his mouth when he stopped and said, "What?" Dean put the fork back on the plate.

"U-uh…" Sam stuttered then leaned closer and whispered, "Can we talk about…_that_?"

Dean's face blanched and he choked on nothing. "Later, Sam," he whispered in reply, not noticing their father observing from behind the computer screen.

* * *

The next morning, Dean was changing his clothes for school when he heard a hesitant knock on the door.

"It's open," he grumbled. Dean was not a morning person. Sleep is like the greatest thing ever and it sucks when it has to stop.

The door creaked as Sam poked his head through the gap. "Dean, it's 'later.' Can we talk now?"

Dean sighed, "Yeah, come 'ere, close the door." He sat on the bed and Sam sat next to him after following his order. He looked down at his hands long before hazarding a glance at Sam. Sam was staring at the side of his face waiting for him to speak.

"Obviously, yeah, you saw me kissing Cas in bed." Sam nodded and he continued. "So I guess now you know that I'm…" Dean took a long breath before speaking again, "I'm gay, Sam, I guess."

Sam smirked. "I know."

Dean's head snapped up. "What?"

"Castiel told me why you were avoiding him, Dean."

"Cas?!" He said it as a shock but he guessed it sounded more like a call and suddenly the angel in question was standing in front of the brothers.

Castiel was standing with his hands playing at the edge of his trenchcoat. "Hello, Dean," he muttered with his head lowered.

Dean glared at the angel. "You told him?"

"I had to. Sam was asking a lot of questions and I didn't want him worrying more than he already was."

"So you told him I was gay? Not just make up something about me being in danger or something?" Dean was now standing less than a foot away from Castiel, totally ruining his thing about personal space but, whatever, he's upset right now.

"But, Dean, you were in trouble." Cas thought for a second. "Why would you want me to lie?"

Dean groaned and looked at Sam like get-a-load-of-this-guy then looked back at the attractively annoying angel. "Yes, Cas. That's what people normally do instead of outing them to their family."

Sam tapped on Dean's elbow. "What about Dad?"

Dean huffed and stalked to his chest of drawers. "He's not going to find out about this, not now," he declared as he grabbed shirts and stuff out of the drawers. "Tell Dad I found a small hunt out of town, a salt-n-burn or whatever, and that I'm going alone."

Dean stuffed the clothing into a duffel that sat at the bottom of his closet then shouldered it and grabbed his keys off his desk. "I'll be out for a few days, just to get my mind right before I tell him." He glanced at Castiel, remembering what the angel told him yesterday in the dream and smiled. Telling his father wouldn't be that bad as long as Cas was there but he couldn't do it yet. He waved to Sam and motioned for Cas to follow him then he went down the stairs and out the door.

Dean sat in his car with his angel next to him. "Where are we going?" Cas asked.

Dean turned to him with a huge smile stretching across his face. He leaned over and chastely kissed the angel's lips. "Wherever we want."

* * *

"Where's Dean?" John asked with feigned innocence.

Sam was finishing his breakfast of whole wheat toast and orange juice. He swallowed before answering, "Oh, uh…he found a ghost a couple towns over, simple salt-n-burn." Sam was practically quoting Dean.

John leaned against the kitchen counter. "Why did he go alone? He usually takes you too, doesn't he?"

Sam froze. He figured John had started to figure it out but wanted to keep playing along to the original plan. "S-sometimes he doesn't take me," he stuttered. "Said something about wanting me to get an education."

John nodded, pretending to believe his youngest son but knew there was something more going on. He let it drop for now but planned on bringing it back up when Dean came back from the 'hunt.'


	8. Chapter 8: Breaking Free

**a/n: **the title of this chapter is based on a disney channel original movie guess which one

* * *

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

"Dean."

The angel's voice carried softly from the passenger seat. The Impala roared down a nearly vacant two-lane road just outside Lawrence. Dean has been driving with Cas for about an hour in comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" the teenage hunter replied, still facing the road.

"Where are we going?" Castiel stared out the passenger window, taking in the scenery of trees and open fields.

Dean chuckled subtly. He kept asking that. "Ah, nowhere in particular. I just need to be away from my dad for a few days." He glanced over at the trenchcoat-clad angel in a man's body."Got any requests?" he gestured to the radio.

Castiel smiled. "Thunderstruck."

Dean was surprised. "You remember that?" The angel nodded. "How?"

"It was the first song you played for me," he stated simply.

Dean shook his head. "Whatever, man." He pointed to the floorboard below Cas's feet. "Hand me that box."

Castiel leaned down, slightly constricted by his sitting on his trenchcoat, and picked up a box filled with cassette tapes. He shook it to make the tapes slide around to see the labels better before holding it closer to Dean. The hunter dug around in the box, located the AC/DC tape, removed it from its protective plastic case, and slid it into the deck, using only one hand. Dean pressed play and the melodious sound of an electric guitar filled the car. The mitochondrion is the powerhouse of the cell. Cas began to play along to the guitar parts while Dean drummed his fingers dramatically on the steering wheel.

* * *

"How's Dean doing on that hunt?" John asked Sam from the La-Z-Boy. Sam sat on the end of the couch farthest from his father.

The youngest Winchester hesitated but answered, "Alright, I guess. He hasn't called or anything."

John nodded falsely. He still didn't believe what Sam was telling him. Dean was off somewhere with that angel doing 'unspeakable things.'

There really weren't a whole lot of things Dean wouldn't tell his dad, especially when it has to do with where he was going. That was the number one rule in the Winchester household. But this seemed different. Dean always directly told John where he was going, not filtering it through Sam hours later.

And now that angel was thrown into the mix. He couldn't save Mary. What was so great about him? John saw him in Dean's bedroom the other day, hovering over his sleeping son. That didn't mean anything. And just what the hell was he doing in there that Sam was so wary about when he came back downstairs?

Things weren't adding up.

Well, they were, but not in the way John would want them to.

* * *

Dean tossed his duffle bag onto the edge of the one bed in the dingy motel room. The lady at the front desk had eyed the two when he asked for one room but he really didn't care. He just needed to sleep somewhere.

The hunter flopped face down onto the dusty bed. "Hey, Cas?" The angel in question watched him from next to the table and made a noise of acknowledgement. "Will you do that thing? Where you watch me sleep?"

Castiel nodded. "I will do whatever you ask of me."

There was a pause before Dean lifted his head and took a glance at the blue-eyed man, blush creeping onto his freckly cheeks. "S-so if I asked you to…" his voice trailed off. Dean couldn't believe what he was about to ask. Castiel took a worried step closer and Dean swallowed hard. He'd never been this nervous in his life.

"If I w-wanted you to, uh…" He looked at his hands gripping the sheets; his face was burning red at this point. "…just lay in bed with me?" he finished almost silently.

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the now very pink teenager.

"Yes."

Dean's head shot up. He smiled and began taking off the angel's clothes. Castiel looked very confused.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

The young hunter scoffed. "Well, you don't want to be in this trenchcoat in bed do you? It would be pretty uncomfortable." Castiel sighed then nodded. "You should take your shoes off, too." Dean dumped the angel's jacket and shirt onto the floor and began undressing himself.

"Pants?" Cas wondered aloud.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, you can take those off," he replied as he dropped his own clothes next to Castiel's. The angel stood up and unbuttoned his slacks. Dean tried not to stare as Cas slowly slid them down his thighs. It's like he's doing it on purpose, he thought. Dean peeled the sheets back from under him and slid into them on his side, Cas eventually climbing in behind him. Dean reached over to the side table and turned off the one light in the room. Freaking hotels, whatever.

The darkness consumed the room and Dean was painfully aware of how close the angel was to him. And he was also aware of how little Castiel knew about human interaction, so if he just happened to slide backwards toward him and press his back to his chest, he'd have no idea what it meant.

So that's what he did.

And then he realized Cas would have no idea what to do with his hands, so Dean reached around and grabbed Castiel's wrist. He pulled the angel's arm around his body and relished in the warmth and comfort he immediately felt.

That night, Dean slept more soundly than he ever had before.

* * *

"He should be back by now, Sam."

John's voice sounded passive-aggressively furious. Sam stilled in the kitchen chair, a bead of anxious sweat fell from his brow.

"Yeah, I don't know what's going on, Dad." Sam tried to sound nonchalant as he lied to his father. "Maybe he found something else and just kept going?"

John stood from the chair he had been sitting in, the legs scraping the floor loudly as it slid back. He left the room without another word.

* * *

Dean woke the next morning with his forehead pressed against a familiar angel's. When did he turn around in the night? He didn't care. Castiel had fallen asleep at some point in the night; Dean guessed it was because it probably got boring watching someone sleep and he just seemed so comfortable.

Dean studied the even breathing of the angel and how his eyes looked while closed. Cas never even really blinked that much so seeing his eyes closed was like the eighth wonder of the world.

Then he leaned forward just slightly and gently pressed his lips against Castiel's. His lips were motionless for a moment before kissing back. Cas opened his bluey-blue eyes and looked into Dean's greeny-green ones.

"Good morning," Dean greeted voice thick with sleep.

Castiel smiled and hugged the hunter closer to his body. "It is," he agreed then gently pressed his lips against Dean's. Dean mewled into the kiss before breaking away.

"We have to get going," Dean said regrettably. "Dad could come find us at any moment."

Castiel looked at him in confusion. "I thought Sam told him you were on a hunt?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, but sometimes he finds me no matter what I do." He shrugged. "Plus, there's nothing to really do here." Dean rolled off the bed and gathered some clothes out of the duffel then headed to the bathroom.

* * *

Three days and two states over, Dean decided it was finally time to go home and face the music.

He arrived in Lawrence late in the day with Castiel in the passenger seat. He pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a malt shop down the road from the Winchester home. Dean looked at his angel as he tried to push down the fear that bloomed deep in his stomach. Cas rested his hand on the young hunter's knee.

"It's going to be okay, Dean," Castiel assured him.

Dean sighed and nodded, looking at the strong hand on his leg. He lifted his own hand to the angel's face and cupped his cheek before stealing a sweet-ass kiss. Castiel smiled into the kiss, knowing Dean would be perfectly fine when he went home. Dean's lips pressed harder against Castiel's before opening them gently with his tongue, deepening the kiss.

Dean Winchester had never really made out with a guy before. Nor an awkward, nerdy angel. But nonetheless, took control. He pushed his body closer to the angel's and wrapped his other arm around his waist. Castiel moved gracelessly but eventually had his hands in Dean's hair as they slid together in the front seat.

A rapid thumping on the driver side window caused them to split apart and Dean turned to see…

Oh crap.

Dad.


	9. Chapter 9: Daddy Please Don't

A FLYING GLASS OF MILK ADJACENT PRODUCTIONS

NOT ASSOCIATED WITH FLYING GLASS OF MILK

CHARACTERS BELONG TO ERIC KRIPKE

BASED ON TRUE FAKE EVENTS

Dean swallowed hard as nervous sweat formed on his face. He looked wide-eyed at Cas, trying to stay calm and obviously failing. What the heck was Dad even doing at a malt shop at 8 in the evening anyway?

He scooted toward the door, rolled down the window, and was faced with an expression of pure anger.

"Dean Winchester," John growled. "What do you think you're doing?"

Dean chuckled tensely but kept eye contact. "I think I'm trying to have some fun." Oh god, that's not what he meant to say. He meant to say, 'Nothing, Sir.' But instead he just gave his father fair game to beat the crap out of him.

John: 1

Dean: 0

"Fun?" John echoed.

Dean couldn't move but if he could he would slide out the passenger side with Castiel and fly somewhere safe or something.

He gulped against the lump forming in his throat before answering, "Yeah, Dad, fun." Dean's voice sounded even and strong. He couldn't believe what was going on. Usually in a situation like this, he would be stuttering like a kid trying to ask the hottest girl in school to prom. But now it seemed like he was…standing up to his father? That's odd.

"Get out of the car. Now." John was very audibly getting angrier by the second. Dean mechanically followed his father's order. What to heck, Dean? You were doing so well.

Dean stood solidly in front of his father and braced for the hit that eventually came. He stumbled back a few inches but before John could lay another fist in his face, Castiel had pulled his arm away and drilled a punch into the side of his nose. The angel then gripped the shoulders of the Winchester patriarch and shoved him back, causing him to lose his footing and collide with the ground.

The younger Winchester looked between Cas and his father. He shrugged and got into the car, prompting Castiel to get in also and they sped off in the direction of the house.

"Dean, this doesn't make any sense. Why would you go home after that?" the angel asked when he rounded the corner.

"Because he would assume I'd run away again and he knows my routine for that. Go to a motel and sign in under the name Lance Tankman. All he has to do is look it up. So that's what he'll be off doing while I'm safe at home."

Cas nodded. "Clever."

Dean parked the Impala in the neighbor's driveway, hidden from their house by tall shrubs. He and Castiel walked into the living room and saw Sam on the couch.

"You're back?" he asked.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe. We ran into Dad—"

"Oh?" Sam interrupted.

"Yeah, oh," Dean replied solemnly. He dismissively waved his hand. "He's off trying to find 'Lance Tankman.'"  
The younger brother nodded. "So you have, like what, an hour before he comes back?"

"Probably."

Sam stood and gestured up the stairs. "Well, get going."

"What?" Dean was surprised at Sam.

He stared at Dean before saying, "You're leaving again, right?"

"No," he said sternly. "I'm staying."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Are you sure? Dad's gonna kick your ass."

Dean smiled as he glanced at Cas then shook his head. "Nope."

Sam raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, whatever," he murmured before going upstairs to his room.

Castiel studied Dean's face before slowly bringing his hand to his temple. "Dean, you are bruising."

"It's fine," he claimed before gently swatting away the angel's hand. Castiel used his bluey-blue eyes to look at Dean. The teenager stepped slightly closer to the angel man with his greeny-green eyes still fixed on those other equally bright eyes that are blue. Dean almost kissed Castiel just for being so darn cute but the front door swung open and kinda stopped him.

"You fucking shit!" John fumed from the doorway. He lunged for Dean but was stopped with two fingers touching his forehead.

Castiel did his angel thing and when John awoke like six minutes later, he was calm and attentive. Dean sat next to him on the couch as he spoke.

"Knock knock, I love cock."

John stared at him, utterly confused. "What?" he choked out.

"I'm gay, Dad." Dean let out a long breath, bracing himself for some kind of homophobic rant.

John seethed quietly. Then sighed. "Alright." Wait, what?

Dean looked from his father, to Castiel who shrugged, then back to John. "Uh…?"

John smiled. Plot twist? "I'm okay with this."

WHAT.

IS.

GOING.

ON.

"Dad, what the hell?"

John stood and headed for his room. He turned at the door. "Yes homo," he whispered before disappearing.

THE END

* * *

hey thanks for reading i really appreciate it

this really got out of hand and id like to thank each and every one of you for reading and those of you who reviewed thanks for that as well literally i tried for like 8 seconds out of this whole fic and somehow people actually liked it but yeah it ends here i didnt really have anything else to add i really did want this fic to kind of be short and i had it planned out for less than ten chapters and i guess i achieved my goal maybe one day ill get really good at writing smut and ill add a bonus chapter where cas and dean do the do but its whatever

l8r


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